


Free Ride

by nileflood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Infidelity, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nileflood/pseuds/nileflood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel really should have known better than to have a relationship with Crowley. He might have been Castiel's most prominent client, but he was secretive and controlling. Castiel shouldn't have tumbled into bed with him in the first place. That way he would never have gotten pregnant, he would never have had to rush to hospital in the middle of the night and then he would never, ever have met Dean Winchester.</p><p>For a taxi-driver that only had the vaguest of qualifications though, he was, well, possibly the best thing that could have happened to Castiel at that point. He'd driven Castiel to the hospital the night he'd given birth, alone and still fuming at Crowley's betrayal, and had stayed. Dean had even driven him home, had returned later with Castiel's missing wallet and then, somehow, managed to form a bond with the baby that rivalled Castiel's own. As babysitters go, Castiel couldn't really find anyone better, despite Dean's charming smiles and winks in his direction. But now as Castiel tries to get his life back on track and settle down with a better father-figure for his son, is Dean going to prove to be more a help or a hindrance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Link to art: Art Masterpost
> 
>  
> 
> With many thanks to my amazing artist Artist: saffron_zephyr and both queen crowley and rudy on tumblr for the Beta work you did :)

 

Castiel was an accountant. A quiet, polite man whose role in life seemed to be doing the sums and calculations other people couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do for themselves. In fairness, Castiel did more than work on other people’s taxes. He worked with several important companies, going over their books, and double-checking the figures from their in-house teams, it would just be inaccurate to say he did any less. Castiel worked hard, tried his best, and went well above and beyond the call of duty .

 

Castiel had a good reputation with his clients, well, at least it was a good working relationship at least. He was invited to Christmas parties, sometimes to barbeques in the summer. Sprawling gatherings of well dressed men and women, sweltering in the July heat, everyone seeming to know everyone else, while Castiel awkwardly hung around the edge of the pool, lemonade in hand. He wasn’t a social butterfly- he had one, two close friends, but no more. He was happy enough, but in crowds, he shied away and kept close to the buffet table.

 

That was how he’d met Crowley. Their host, Balthazar Milton, was a businessman with his own, reasonably small company. He had found Castiel tucked away near the miniature mince-pies and sipping something warm and probably alcoholic. Castiel didn’t notice the men converging on him until too late, and then he was hemmed in, there was nowhere to escape to, and there was no excuse he could think of to slip away. When Balthazar pushed his way through and asked him to meet an associate of his, it was a god-send. Castiel smiled, setting down his mug and offered his hand out to shake as Balthazar introduced him to the dark-suited man with a smart, sly expression.

 

This was Crowley, a man who had been told many good things about Castiel’s work, about his attention to detail and his dedication. Crowley was impressed, or so he said, and Castiel tried not to let the embarrassment creep into his cheeks. It was just the fault of the warm air, and the mulled wine, and the fact he wasn’t used to compliments. Balthazar noticed right away, and Crowley must have noticed as well, but apart from Balthazar’s wink nothing was said about Castiel’s rosy cheeks, and pink ears. It was brushed under the carpet as Crowley announced he was looking for an accountant, and he pulled a business card from his pocket. Their fingers brushed as Castiel took the little slip of paper between his fingers, feeling a little jolt of warmth go through him, something he’d never had happen before.

 

That was when Balthazar excused himself, slipping away to greet someone else, and leaving Castiel alone with Crowley . He barely noticed Balthazar was gone, too occupied with the man who remained in front of him. Crowley didn’t waste any time, hand moving from the card and taking Castiel by the elbow and leading him away to find more champagne.

 

Castiel just seemed to get swept up in it all. Crowley was charming, funny, and as outrageously flirtatious as Balthazar. But rather than shaking his head and giving   disapproving eye roll's, Castiel found himself quite flustered. He didn't honestly know what to do with all this attention; his skills as an accountant weren't legendary, and he may have had the time to take on one more client. Why Crowley was putting in so much effort he just didn't know. But the more Crowley talked and charmed, the more Castiel found himself going along with it. Accepting, glass after glass of champagne.

 

He shouldn’t have let it happen. He never normally tumbled into bed with men he’d just met, never let them get under his skin with sweet words, and warm alcohol. But there was something about Crowley that made it hard for Castiel to deny. He tripped up, flustered when he got knotted up in his own shirt sleeves as warm hands gripped at his ass, Crowley’s voice low and encouraging as they found some unoccupied bedroom in Balthazar’s too-large apartment.

  
  


It didn’t last long, although Castiel’s memory of the event itself wasn’t completely reliable,champagne always had that effect on him. But he did recall the feeling of stickiness between his thighs and the ache in his backside as he struggled back into his clothes. He would have preferred to get under a hot shower, to press his forehead against cold tiles although that had to wait until he reached his own home and could make himself some coffee.

 

He thought that would be that- Crowley had been interested in one thing only despite what he’d said at their introduction. Perhaps it would have been better that way, if he’d persuaded himself that Crowley would be trouble and disruption. Somehow though, the man had ended up with some kind power over him, and when he called back a day or so later to offer Castiel work Castiel didn’t turn him down. In fact, Castiel found his heart beat a little quicker in his chest at the idea.  He didn’t stop at the time to look at his feelings, to examine them and wonder why he felt this way over a man he’d slept with once, but it seemed to be that rare moment of intimacy that had cast all his normal coyness out the window.

 

Castiel didn’t realize he was acting different, he didn’t consider that he wouldn’t have gone out and bought an new shirt and tie to meet with any other client. He wasn’t even thinking of Crowley as a client at this point, but as something else, something with more potential. He knew the old adage, never mix business and pleasure,  but Crowley himself was no help on that front. He’d let Castiel into his large, plush office with wide views over the city, and let Castiel breathe it in before announcing that they wouldn’t be staying for long. They were going to a nice restaurant, Crowley announced, buzzing for his secretary to have the car brought up from the basement.

 

It was not the sort of working lunch Castiel had expected- Crowley didn’t bother to spend very much time outlining what he wanted Castiel to focus on, or even how often he’d need him to look over the accounts. Instead he was far more interested in nudging their feet together under the table, on finding out more about Castiel. When Castiel did try and get him back on track, if only to save himself from blushing anymore, Crowley would smile that sly little smile and apologize, but the conversation always went back to official business for a few minutes before Crowley distracted him again, making Castiel squirm with embarrassment through most of the meal. Although, he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it, just a little bit.

 

From that point on, Castiel figured out that working for Crowley was never going to be business like normal Crowley expected him to do the work, of course, he expected everyone to do what they were paid to do. But all too often, he saw no harm in touching Castiel all the way through their meetings, in finding non-existent problems that saw Castiel heading across town to see him late in the evening. Crowley even took him with him on business trips, although Castiel didn’t really leave the hotel room on those occasions. But that didn’t matter, he was with Crowley, who flattered him and complimented him, bought him nice things and caused the butterflies in his stomach to build up a tornado in his stomach with every dirty message left on his phone.

 

However, Crowley made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want anyone else knowing about them, about what they did behind closed doors. It was private, he said, and Castiel understood that. Crowley wasn’t married, this wasn’t some sort of sordid affair, but the boss having a relationship with his subordinate he hired to keep his books in check was hardly professional. Crowley relied on his image, on his reputation and Castiel did not want to negatively affect that. Not when there was no many important projects underway. Once everything had quietened down, once this merger had gone through, then it would be a better time to tell their friends.

 

Castiel should have known that it would never be the right time. There were always new projects Crowley was involved with. He was an opportunist when it came to business, there was something new for him to acquire, a buyout or a change to his ‘game plan’. All of it kept Castiel tied firmly to his accounting machine, and their romance well and truly under wraps.

 

\---

 

“You don’t really think he was ever going to make it public, do you?”

 

Meg watched him with a raised eyebrow as she sipped on her expensive, chain brand latte.  She was hardly sympathetic, but she wasn’t supposed to be. She was an auditor with the IRS, and Castiel’s best friend. At least, that was how he thought of her, in general terms, but she had never called herself that, and probably never would. She was cold, cruel rather than detached but it had never bothered Castiel before now. Now he thought she was being deliberately unkind.

 

“Men like Crowley don’t have boyfriends, Castiel. They don’t like domesticity. Trust me, I know the type. They just like to keep pretty pets.” She scoffed over her foamy beverage.

 

Her attitude did noting smooth Castiel’s ruffled feathers, it only made him bristle further . “Crowley isn’t like that, Meg. You’d know if you met him. This quarter has just been very busy, and we’re both under a lot of stress.”

 

“Then why won’t he just let you tell people? You’re not asking him to move in together, are you? Or get married?”

 

Castiel shook his head. The question wasn’t worth dignifying with an answer, although it did make him feel a little uneasy. They’d been together now for the last three quarters, long enough for them to have tested the waters and decided what they wanted, what the future might hold for them. Letting people know they were in a relationship was only one thing, a simple, little, thing. This not knowing where they were heading was another. Castiel realized, suddenly, that he was blind to what Crowley wanted from him.

 

Meg was looking at him, a hint of pity in her gaze that made him stand up suddenly he nearly tipped over his own coffee, startling the couple at the table next to them. He didn’t want her pity, and didn’t need it.

 

“I’ve got a meeting I need to get to.” He blurted out, trying to sound as casual as he could, and failing. Meg was savvy enough to know that he was lying, but she glanced at her own watch and nodded.

 

“Same. I’ll call you tonight, Clarence.”

 

She disappeared into the crowd on the street a few moments later, and Castiel took a breath. He had to speak to Crowley now, to put himself at ease. They had been seeing each other, sleeping together, for too long without knowing if they were on the same page. He’d assumed they were, but they moved in different circles. Truthfully, Crowley seemed to move the circles himself, and Castiel didn’t have much of one, but that didn’t matter to him.

 

He needed to know what Crowley wanted out of all of this, and Castiel knew he wouldn’t sleep properly, eat right or feel like himself until he’d spoken to Crowley.

 

Luckily, Crowley’s office was only a few blocks away, and even with the crowds jostling him Castiel was there in a matter of minutes, his heart still beating hard against his ribs. Normally, he made an appointment, or Crowley called for him or left a message on his phone, but this time he arrived in front of the secretary’s desk unannounced. The young woman on the desk seemed surprised to see him, but she didn’t try and stop him, only pushed the button on her phone to let Crowley know Castiel was here.

 

There was no meeting, no important conference call going on, and Crowley himself opened the door for Castiel to step in, his face full of concern.

 

But Castiel would not let Crowley get the first word in, even though he could see a question forming on the mans lips. Castiel had his own questions; questions that he needed answers to, and he wasn’t going to let Crowley derail or distract him.

 

“What are we doing, Crowley? What do you want from this? From me? I don’t know what we’re doing or what I mean to you.” Castiel said, with his chin held high, and jaw set in determination.

 

If Crowley was surprised, he hid it well. Castiel knew he hadn’t been expecting this, knew Crowley liked to plan ahead, be prepared for anything and everything and things usually went the way he expected. Eventually, Crowley's mouth split into that charming, trade mark smile.

 

“Castiel,” He purred, curling an arm around Castiel’s waist, leading him over the the comfortable couch against the wall, away from the desk and the paperwork and all those distractions. Castiel let himself sink down, pulling his eyes away from the desk, back to Crowley. Crowley’s eyes studied him, flickered over him. “Castiel, why are you asking me this. Are you not happy, are you not having fun? You know I'm crazy about you kitten.”

 

“But no one knows, you don't let me talk about it... I just don't know where this is going.”

 

Crowley said noting for a moment, his charming smile faltering just a little.

 

“I’ve told you, Castiel. We’re going to tell everyone. Soon. By the end of this month. There’s friends I want you to meet, I know they’ll like you. You know how busy everything has been. It’s not an excuse, I know that. You’re the most important thing going on in my life right now.”

 

Castiel felt his resolve weakening, the words gently stroking and soothing the tension out of his chest, just as Crowley’s hand stroked up and down his spine, moving lower with each passing moment.

 

“You deserve better, Castiel. I want us to be together, as a team. I couldn’t have done half the things I have this year without you.”

 

That was all Castiel needed. That was the last hurdle. He wanted Crowley to appreciate him, to value him, for them to be a team. If there were any more protests in the back of his mind, any more doubts, they were gone in a moment of warm words. As Crowley leaned in to kiss him, Cas kissed back. He let himself be pushed back into the sofa, letting Crowley press him into the cushions and slot himself between his spread his legs.

 

Eager hands sliding up the inside of his thighs, tugging at his clothes and rubbing at his cock through the material. He fought to hold in the groan, knowing that Crowley’s secretary was still outside, but in the end he couldn’t swallow it down, not as the cold air hit his skin and made every hair stand on end. He wanted to be touched, he wanted hands on him, teasing him and pleasing him, and Crowley knew how to do just that.

 

They’d fucked here before, on the couch, hard and fast. Castiel had been too worried about being caught to care about how quickly it was over, and Crowley had been out of town too long to last more than a few thrusts. That was how Castiel was used to it, with Crowley’s hand wrapped around his cock as the man sank into him from behind, thrusts short and shallow but Castiel didn’t care, not with Crowley’s warm words echoing around in his head.

 

\---

 

**Almost three months later:**

 

Crowley had been away too long. In England Castiel assumed, or somewhere far away, making more deals and mergers and forgetting to call. Maybe he was too tired, to every time he tried to call he remembered the time difference, or maybe he just thought Castiel didn’t mind that they hand not spoken for over a month. He’d at least remember once he got back, he’d call Castiel himself or even come over, send a bouquet or a fruit basket and an apology for being such a dick, but it didn’t happen.

 

He sat in his apartment, waiting. He’d done it for days, or so it felt, while Crowley was away and now he was back, waiting for the phone to ring or a knock on the door. Something, anything. But nothing happened. And that meant Castiel was left to making an appointment, calling Crowley’s snooty new secretary, saying he needed to discuss figures for the last quarter. Really he wanted to demand why Crowley hadn’t called, why he was left to do it, but he held his tongue, expecting to be invited to come over straight away. But the boy sniffed disdainfully and said Crowley was fully booked for the next week. Crowley would call him, Castiel was informed, when he was wanted. The loud, obnoxious, dial-tone that followed told him the boy had hung up.

 

He let the phone smash down into the cradle, hands drumming across his belly. There was no swell there yet, not really, but it wouldn’t be long before he really started to show. In the meantime he had to remember his blood pressure, or so his doctor had told him, and so he took several deep, calming breaths. Crowley wouldn’t be happy when he heard Castiel had been brushed off. He’d probably fire his useless new secretary too, which was exactly what the boy deserved.

 

But Crowley would be delighted when he heard the news. They’d never talked about children, although with everything Crowley had said before he’d had to go away, Castiel was sure he’d be happy. They’d talked about a house- not a fancy apartment but a real house, a garden and a lawn, something idyllic and beautiful. Well, Castiel had talked about that, one night in bed at a fancy hotel, Crowley had been half asleep already but he’d grunted in agreement. That was enough, or had been, to convince Castiel that this wasn’t a disaster, a stupid mistake because they hadn’t been as careful as they should have been.

 

It was the push they’d needed. Crowley said he’d already told his closest friends about Castiel, even if Castiel hadn’t met them yet. And Castiel didn’t want to tell his family about Crowley until they could be introduced, until Crowley was by his side to weather all the embarrassment and the questions and the teasing Castiel knew he was going to have to endure. He already knew his family would be shocked. The idea of Castiel seeing anyone would be considered a joke, but Castiel had been seeing someone without telling them wouldn’t be so funny. That he was pregnant and still keeping it all a secret? That wouldn’t go down well. But it couldn’t be avoided any longer, by anyone.

 

He sat for a moment longer, his hands stoking up under his shirt, across his stomach, trying not to let the stress overwhelm him. He and Crowley were going to have a baby, and the horrible twisting feeling inside him was only nausea, nothing more. It was something he’d got used to very quickly over the last two months, after it had been confirmed by the doctor that he was expecting. Castiel had tried to call Crowley, but the number scribbled down in the margin wasn’t right, and international numbers confused him anyway, they were far longer than they had any right to be. It was better to tell Crowley face to face, he’d decided. But that was before Crowley’s trip had been extended, and extended again. Now Castiel was desperate to see him, nervous and excited all at once.

 

Not that he could sit around all day. He might have prioritized Crowley for almost a year now, and for good reason, but he still had work to do, other clients he had to consider. He wasn’t going to sit around and wait by the phone until Crowley got his dry-cleaning back or had slept off the last of his jet-lag. Castiel was better than that.

 

Even so, he sighed as he pulled his stack of papers back, reaching for his pencil and trying not to move around too much. He was comfortable, and as all of the books, magazines and pamphlets had been quick to point out, he wasn’t going to be comfortable for the majority of the next six months. He was going to spend as much time as he could now being comfortable, taking his time and relaxing.

 

But he didn’t. He was up after five minutes of trying to work, fidgeting and uncertain. With a deep breath, Castiel steeled his nerves, and grabbed his coat. Shoving his arms into the sleeves roughly, he prepared to set out.

 

He had waited long enough to tell Crowley, he wasn’t going to wait any longer, and he wasn’t going to wait to be summoned. He tied the belt, knowing it wasn’t going to fit around his middle much longer and left. He made it all of five feet down the hall of his building before he had go go back for his wallet. He slammed the door shut to the apartment door again, and headed towards Crowley.

 

\---

 

The subway journey had been unpleasant, to say the least. He’d begun to feel ill just after pushing through the barrier, and the train had been unusually busy- full of teenagers on some field trip to the beating heart of the financial district, and Castiel swore he could feel their stares, hear their whispers. He would have got off a stop before the one outside Crowley’s building, but he couldn’t face the extra walk and so bit down on the inside of his cheek and simply seethed to himself.

 

He got in without any trouble. Castiel knew almost all the girls at the reception desk, he knew the usual security guards and they knew him. They usually waved him through or held elevator doors open for him when he was struggling under the weight of files and his briefcase but today he didn’t have anything with him. Today he was stomping through the lobby and towards the elevators, simply nodding at their greetings and completely ignoring the worried “Please, Mr Novak, will you wait a-” but the doors slid shut before she could tell him why he should wait.

 

Wait! He’d already waited two months. Two months of no phone calls, e-mails, not even a damn letter! That would have been bad enough, Castiel knew, since Crowley had promised so much before, about a life they could have, about telling their friends and families. Crowley had better have a good apology ready, some damn good reasons for ignoring him so long.

 

He got off on Crowley’s floor- the one with the meeting rooms and his office and very little else. As much as Castiel had felt anger burn through him on the way over, he knew that wasn’t going to work on Crowley. Crowley let other people’s emotions wash over him, using what he could, ignoring the rest.

 

He sucked in a deep, calming breath, before letting himself into Crowley’s ante-chamber.  It had been redecorated, probably at the new secretary’s insistence. But there was no one at the mahogany desk. He was running errands no doubt, to the expensive coffee shop across the block that Crowley frequented, or photocopying something. Castiel could wait, could use the time to get his head straight.

 

As annoyed as he was with Crowley, it would pass. There was something more important than that, there was their child. The baby that even now was making Castiel feel a little too warm, making his head throb and his stomach twist itself into knots. Crowley would be excited, Castiel was positive. He would be sorry for being away for so long. Yes, he was sure of it.

 

The minutes ticked by. It was too early for a lunch break, too late for breakfast and Crowley didn’t do meetings, serious meetings, until the afternoon. There was no reason for the secretary to be missing this long, and Castiel didn’t want to sit and wait around all day. The low, designer chairs were uncomfortable, and Crowley had probably picked them for exactly that reason.

 

He got to his feet and glanced about. There was no sign of anyone coming, and so made his way over to Crowley’s desk. The man’s day planner was open, and there was nothing penciled in, so Crowley should be there. He knew Crowley had to be in, because when he stood near the doors to the man’s overly-large corner office, he could hear his voice. No words, but the indistinct noise that made it’s way through the wood was certainly English.

 

He pushed the door open, stepping into the room. But before he’d even taken two paces he realized what the noise was- aside from the slap of skin on skin, it was Crowley’ cursing. He liked to call people names in bed, like slut and whore. It had always turned Castiel’s stomach but now it was worse than before.

 

Transfixed, he watched for the half-second it took for Crowley to notice the open door, to curse again and fumble to pull up his trousers and hide himself. Castiel couldn’t think, couldn’t believe what he was seeing as the boy Crowley had been fucking pushed himself up from the desk. He was younger than Castiel by a good handful of years.

 

That was all he needed to see. Castiel turned on his heel and headed out as fast as he could, finding the nearest bathroom to lock himself in and vomit.

 

\---

 

**Several Weeks Later:**

  
  


He caught his breath, or tried to, the taste still thick and foul in his mouth, but the gulps of air didn’t help and he retched again over the toilet bowl. Meg’s hand rubbed at his back, a surprisingly tender gesture from his unofficial best friend.

 

“This is how you know we’re friends.” She said smugly, as Castiel dry-heaved, having  noting left in his stomach to give. Meg gave a little sigh, passing over a glass of water when Castiel reached for it. She continued to rub his back while Castiel washed his mouth out, before stepping away and letting him get shakily to his feet. Castiel thought he’d been feeling better by now. Even the vibrations and heat and crowds of the subway hadn’t made him feel ill again, although he’d half prepared for it. He’d managed to get all the way across town to Meg’s apartment without throwing up again, and privately Castiel was grimly impressed with himself. Not that it was something he would have voiced, and considering what a fool he’d just made of himself; hyperventilating as he got through her door and dashing away to the bathroom before he’d even sat down, it was probably not something to mention now.

 

“That’s pretty bad morning sickness.” She mentioned, stepping out of the bathroom and letting Castiel come out at his own pace, watching him lean against the wall to suck down a few lungfuls of air. “Have you seen a doctor yet?”

 

Castiel blinked, pushing his hair from his forehead. It was slightly damp with sweat, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he should move further from the toilet, just in case the nausea decided to come back. “I have an appointment for Wednesday, a check up and a scan. I’ve invited Crowley to come with me.”

 

Meg turned on her heel, as fast as Castiel had ever seen her move. Meg never moved fast for anyone, she was far too controlled, far too collected, but from the look on her face at those words had got to her- there was a glint in her eyes too, a fire that might have been anger. “Do you seriously want that bastard to go with you? Honestly Castiel, why do you even want him there?”

 

“It isn’t a case of wanting-” Castiel began, although he had known Meg long enough, no amount of reasoning or explanation would convince her once she had set her mind. She had never liked Crowley, despite never having met him, and she wasn’t about to change her mind about him over a kid. Not that Castiel could blame her. Crowley had tried to call Castiel repeatedly after his impromptu visit to the man’s office, but Castiel had refused to take his calls. Crowley hadn’t sent gifts, trying to woo Castiel back. He’d not even tried after Castiel had sent him the letter, informing him of the pregnancy.

 

After a couple of days, they’d spoken, briefly on the telephone, but Crowley had never apologized for what he’d done, it just wasn’t in his nature to feel regret for anything he did. But this was it, they were finished, it was over.

 

In hindsight, Castiel knew he had been stupid to trust Crowley. The man had lead him on, lied and bullied him and misled him about his intentions. But Castiel had been naive, and blinded by flattery and gifts. Meg had warned him that Crowley was not what he seemed, she said ‘I told you so’ at least twice each time they saw each other. But he’d not seen that before- he’d trusted Crowley and he’d loved him, although that thought now turned his stomach. But he wasn’t going to sink down to Crowley’s level. “I have to give him a chance, Meg. We may not be in a relationship but he can still be a father, if he chooses.”  

 

She rolled her eyes, and Castiel knew she thought he was being a fool.

“Alright, we’ll do this your way, Clarence. Just don’t get your hopes up that one look at a sonogram will send him straight back into your arms. You and Junior are on your own.”

 

He nodded, a hand moving down to his stomach. It was far too early so to feel anything yet, at least anything like a kick, but he was sure somehow that he could feel the baby inside him. It was a reassuring presence. He thought he’d feel worse, knowing he was going to be alone in this, but when Castiel spread his palm over his slightly curved stomach, he felt that things might still be alright.

 

\----

 

**Six Months Later:**

 

Castiel woke with a start, a cold sweat covering his body, and heart pounding. He tried to recall the nightmare that had been bad enough to wake him. He didn’t often have nightmares, or at least hadn’t before this late stage in his pregnancy. He put it down to the increased amount of sugar and manufactured ingredients working their way into his diet- but he couldn’t help it! He just craved sweet things all the time now. Even now, in the darkness of his bedroom, he felt a twinge, a desire for something disgustingly sugar-filled and chewy, which would mean another trip to the all-night corner store. He didn’t care much, they were getting used to seeing him at all hours of the night. The only problem with getting food at this moment was getting out of the warm cocoon of his bed.

 

He swung his legs out from under the covers eventually, a good half hour after waking up, maybe even more. That was when he glanced at the clock. It was hardly past eleven o’clock. That was when a strange, sharp pain went through his whole body. It was sharp enough to wind him and send him reeling back down onto the bed with a whine.

 

It was gone just as quickly as it came, but the memory of it had Castiel’s heart racing and his whole body trembling. It was gone. But so was the desire to eat, to do anything but get back into bed and under his covers. He wasn’t due for another week. Everything was already booked.

 

It was a little over a half an hour when the pain came again. And then another half hour after that.

 

There was no denying it. These were contractions and he was in labor.

 

\---

 

Castiel didn’t like taking cabs. He liked to walk, if he could, or take the subway, rather than sit in some stranger's car and attempt to make chit-chat as they crawled through the traffic. Tonight though he didn’t have much choice- the pain raging through his abdomen at steady intervals was proof of that. He made it to the curb, clutching at his bag and gritting his teeth as he tried to get the attention of a driver.

 

The first two passed on by, and Castiel was beginning to think of some choice names to call the next yellow car that left him standing there when a third car pulled over. It didn’t have dice or stupid air fresher hung in the window, no stupid stickers or soft toys on the dash. It was almost spotless. The driver, on the other hand, was unshaven, but Castiel found he didn’t mind that as much as he normally might have under regular circumstances. Castiel shook his head and hopped in quickly, telling himself that he was being an over emotional mess, distracted by a strong jaw and green eyes while labor pains continued to wrack his body.

 

“Hey, you okay man?”

 

Castiel wanted to snapped something sarcastic. He wanted to ask if he looked okay, or if heavily pregnant grimacing people got into this guy’s cab all the time. But another stab of pain went through him as the baby tossed and turned. Castiel just  didn’t have it in him right now. “Hospital. Please, now.”

 

The driver nodded but Castiel wasn’t paying attention by then. He was trying to take deep, slow breaths, to keep himself calm. The roads this time of night were clear at least, and there wasn’t the blare of horns or swerving from lane to lane. He could almost have forgotten he was in a cab, until the driver spoke again.

 

“Is there anyone waiting for you there? I can call someone if you need me to.”

 

Castiel looked up, straight at a pair of concerned green eyes looking him via the rear-view mirror. They distracted Castiel, derailed his train of thought and for a second he couldn’t reply, stumbling over words before they even made it to his tongue. He didn’t know what to say for a second, a moment of embarrassment gripping him like it always did when people asked about his husband.  “No, no. It’s okay. There’s no need. No one to call.”

 

The driver paused a second, and it was clear he wanted to say something, but Castiel’s blue eyes narrowed, and the man clearly decided it was best to avoid saying anything, his own eyes moving back to the road. Castiel’s attention stayed on the rear-view for a second longer, trying to watch the man’s face, to see if there was a hint of pity there or if it was real concern for the man in labor in the back of his car, but he didn’t get far down that route before he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek again. It didn’t do much to stop the sharp intake of breath that already escaped him, but it silenced the rest of the noise he wanted to make.

 

“We’re almost there.”

 

Castiel nodded with eyes closing tight but the car pulled in a few minutes later, stopping completely. He fumbled with his wallet, ready to get the money for his fare, but as another pain went through him he didn’t notice as it slip from his hand and into the dark space under the passenger seat.

 

The driver was out by then, opening the door and trying to be helpful. “I’ll take your bag in for you. Come on.” He said, offering a quick flash of a smile. Castiel handed his carry-all over; there wasn’t much in it, and it wasn’t heavy, but right now he didn’t think he could manage it. Then he eased himself out, glad that the driver was there, shutting the door so Castiel could focus on staying upright. The nausea and dull ache of standing quickly subsided, and they made it to reception without Castiel embarrassing himself anymore than he already had.

 

They were far more organized in the hospital than he had been in getting there. The receptionist called for a chair so Castiel could be wheeled to the maternity ward, his details were found and the nurse arrived to guide them there. But then another convulsion coursed through him just as he sat down, and he reached out, grabbing at a hand. He didn’t care who it belonged to, as long as he could squeeze it as hard as he could. There was no complaint, not until his vice-like grip began to ease and he glanced up at the poor unfortunate nurse who had probably had their fingers broken.

 

It wasn’t a nurse. It was the taxi driver, with Castiel’s bag still tucked under his free arm, and Castiel felt a flush of color come to his cheeks. He did not meant to do that, he thought the driver had already left, gone back to his car and forgotten all about the strange, pregnant man he drove to the hospital in the middle of the night. Castiel wanted to say thank you, that he was grateful for the small comfort, even from a stranger. Unfortunately, convulsions kept him from forming words.

 

“Let’s get you upstairs, Castiel.” The nurse said sweetly, successfully interrupting the almost moment. She signed off his paperwork and attached the paper-bracelet to his wrist, ushering them all forward and pushing the chair towards a set of elevators. There was no chit-chat as the rode up to the right floor, the nurse was all business as she asked how far apart the pains were, how intense on a scale of one to ten. Then the doors slid open, and there was another length of off-white corridor, before they reached another desk.

 

They didn’t even stop for more than a minute, but directed to a room where Castiel eased himself up onto the bed, stretching out. Not that it helped ease any of the pain, but at least it was nicer than being sat in the cab or in the wheelchair. The nurse bustled around, turning on machines and plugging him in.

 

“We’ll be monitoring you from the station, so just try and make yourself comfortable. The doctor is going to be along soon, alright Castiel? Just settle in, if you need anything, just press the button on your left. We’re only around the corner.” And then the nurse was gone, leaving Castiel in the room, but not alone.

 

“I thought you would have left by now.” Castiel said, at last finding his voice, sucking in deep breaths as his hands went to the swell of his stomach. “Why _are_ you still here?” He was very much aware that they would be bringing him drugs soon, lovely, painkilling drugs and that afterward he might not care who was there or why, but now while he still had all his wits about him, he needed to know.

 

“Is that what you’re worrying about?” The man asked, but then seemed to realize it was a fair question. He slid Castiel’s bag from his shoulder, setting it down on a dresser before moving towards the bed. But he didn’t try and sit down on the edge or invade Castiel’s space. He smiled, and seemed more amused than offended. “You haven’t paid me yet.”

 

“Oh.” Castiel had been expecting more than that, the money just seemed like an excuse to hang around, but the remainder still made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want anyone to think he didn’t pay what he owed, that he was trying to get away without paying his fare, even if these were extenuating circumstances. He tried to move, to swing his legs off the bed and get to his bag, to his coat but as he did another contraction hit him hard, and he gasped.

 

There was a hand in his then, a voice muttering encouraging words, calming words, a hand on his shoulder and despite the pain, sharper somehow than the last and lasting a heartbeat longer, Castiel felt better.  He didn’t need to look up to know whose fingers he’d crushed twice in the space of twenty minutes, but the driver didn’t seem to care.

 

“There’s no one coming to be with you, is there?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “My friend would be but... she’s on a business trip.”

 

“I can stay. If you want me to.”

 

It was a strange offer. Castiel didn’t know this guy, and he had no reason to trust him. He’d had no reason not to trust him either, so far, but Castiel didn’t believe that he owed anyone the benefit of the doubt, not after what Crowley had done. He’d trusted, he’d been too trusting, and he didn’t want any more hurt.

 

But there was something... something different about this man. He didn’t remind Castiel of Crowley in the slightest. There was nothing in the way he spoke, or his stance, or in his face that was anything like that bastard. This man seemed genuinely kind, the kind of man who gave a damn about the people around him. Maybe it was the pain, or the rush of hormones, or the terrible feeling of not wanting to be alone, but he thought, maybe, he couldn’t trust this man. Not with fifty dollars, but at least for the next few hours he could trust him enough to stay. Closing his eyes tight against a fresh wave of pain, Castiel sighed.

 

“What’s your name?” He panted.

 

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

 

Castiel nodded, taking the hand he was offered and shaking, trying not to squeeze again. Dean. He liked that name. It wasn’t smug, or fancy or conceited. There was a first name, and a surname, not one posing as the other. “I’d like you to stay, thank you Dean.”

 

“Castiel?”

 

There was a woman at the door, red-headed and in blue scrubs, a clipboard in hand and an ID hanging from her pocket. “I’m Anna Milton, I’m the doctor on duty tonight. How are you feeling?”

 

Castiel tried to sit himself up a little straighter, leaning on Dean for leverage as the doctor stepped forwards, and returned the smile. “Tired.”

 

“I think that’s to be expected. How bad are the contractions at the moment?”

 

Castiel answered her questions, interrupted by another pain that left him gasping and clutching both to Dean’s hand on one-side, and to Anna’s on the other.

 

“I think we’ll get you ready for the operation theater now. Everything is looking good, but I’m sure you want to meet your baby, don’t you?”

 

Her eyes went from Castiel to Dean then, obviously assuming what Castiel knew people would. He had hoped Dean wouldn’t play along, would just introduce himself as Castiel’s friend, but he didn’t.

 

“Can’t wait!” He said joyfully, although he paled slightly as Anna spoke next.

 

“Then we’ll suit you up now and get you into the operation theater too. Castiel will need your support.”

 

Castiel honestly thought Dean was going to give up the pretense at any moment, but after a second he seemed to recover himself, and he nodded again. “You’re right. I’ll see you there, Cas. You’ll be fine!”

 

Castiel didn’t have any time to protest about being left alone, because as soon as Anna had led Dean away, the nurse returned, with a porter and a trolley.

 

The rest happened in a daze of cream-painted walls and bright lights. There were people crowding him, Dean with a mask covering his mouth and a stupid green hat, a green no where near as nice as his eyes. There was numbness, but discomfort all at once and then, as the world seemed to stop spinning madly on its axis, there was a tiny, pink creature put in his arms, screaming and wriggling.

 

“What’s his name?” Dean asked, his voice soft but audible despite the noise of the baby and the doctors.

 

“Gabriel.” Castiel said, trying the name he’d had in mind, making sure it fit the loud little boy in his arms. “His name is Gabriel.”

 

\---

_I’m hungry! I am so hungry! Why don’t you love me? I am hungry!_

 

Castiel had had no sleep. He’d napped, briefly, in the hospital, while nurses did paperwork and Gabriel was put with the handful of other babies that shared his birthday. But it hadn’t been long, and it hadn’t been enough. He’d woken up when Dean had shrugged his jacket back on, keys rattling in his pocket.  He had to go, he wanted to stay but his shift was starting again...

 

_Castiel! I’m hungry! If you don’t feed me now I swear, I swear I’ll poop again!_

 

Castiel had understood. He didn’t mind, he just wanted to sleep again, but after Dean had gone, he couldn’t get comfortable. He wanted his baby, he wanted to go home.

 

When he had gotten home, he wished he’d stayed a little longer. Gabriel had slept the first few hours they’d been home- in the little bassinet Castiel had bought. But Castiel hadn’t been able to sleep himself. He’d pulled up a chair and sat and watched his baby, his little angel. Watched as his chest rose and fell peacefully. His little fists move when he stirred from time to time. Gabriel was the most beautiful creature in the world, the most  wonderful thing to happen, despite every other crappy thing that had happened before. Nothing, no matter how unique, could ever be as wonderful as his child.

 

That had been hours, months, years ago now. Now the little whatsit wouldn’t shut up! Gabriel wouldn’t stay quiet no matter what Castiel tried; he’d be fed, only to throw up all  over Castiel’s fresh clothes. So then he’d have to be changed, washed, burped. Castiel had tried reading to him, and humming and even a few bars of a lullaby but none of that had done the job . He was only lucky that so far his neighbors hadn’t complained, but Gabriel didn’t seem about to stop any time soon and he could conceivably go on like this till he was two, maybe even two and a half years old.

 

There was no way to get away from it, no escape. He had no one he could just drop his tiny baby off with, no hotel he could check into so he could collapse into a soft, clean bed in a silent room.

 

_I’m still hungry! Feed me, feed me, feed me!_

 

That was when the knock came. A neighbor. The police. Some social services person come to tell him he was parenting all wrong. Maybe even one of his own parents, somehow having tracked him down and come to remind him of all his past and present failures. It was not what he needed. He wasn’t going to answer it.

 

But whoever it was wouldn’t go away. Even over Gabriel he could hear it, the persistent, hard rap at his door. He was only glad the bell didn’t work. Whoever it was wasn’t going to go away, and they wouldn’t believe that no one was home, not with the amount of noise Gabriel was making. How could something so small make so much noise?

 

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” Castiel said, shifting the baby from his shoulder to the little bassinet besides his reclining chair, not that it made any difference to the noise level, but it meant at least that Castiel had both hands free to take the locks off the door.

 

“Look I’m really sorry about the noise, but I just-” He began even before he’d pulled the door open all the way. Then he looked up. It wasn't the familiar, unhappy face of his neighbor downstairs, but Castiel still recognized his visitor straight away. "Dean! How did you-" He began, knowing that he'd certainly not given his address to Dean, and he was sure when the nurses had taken it down Dean had been far too engrossed with the tiny baby Castiel had let him hold.

 

He didn't finish. Instead, Dean held out a wallet- battered black leather. It was plain and old but most importantly, it was Castiel's. "Oh."

 

"I found it in the back of the cab. I thought I should bring it back, considering." Dean told him, and then glanced into the apartment, clearly trying to see the screaming baby. "He's loud, isn't he?"

 

"When there's something he wants. He takes after his father."

 

The look Dean gave Castiel then was questioning, but Castiel didn't enlighten him further. He might have cursed Crowley privately during Gabriel's birth, but he wasn't going to start telling strangers about it. There was no need. "Thank you for bringing my wallet back. I can't chat, Gabriel won't stop crying. I think he's sick..."

 

"I'm pretty good with kids, least my brother says so. Want me to see what I can do?"

 

And then Dean was slipping inside, before Castiel could tell him no, and heading over to the little bassinet and leaning over it.

 

"Hi kid. You're bigger than you were last time I was you. You're going to be real tall and handsome, aren't you?"

 

_It’s you! You! I know you! Let’s make a deal, feed me now and I won’t poop on you later, got it?_

 

"Dean, you only saw him yesterday-"

 

"Well he is bigger." Dean said, lifting the crying baby out and cradling him against his chest. Castiel had thought Gabriel would have grown hoarse by now but it wasn't the case. He was as loud as ever.

 

"Come on kid, your dad needs a break. If you cut that out, I swear I'll teach you to burp the alphabet."

 

"Dean!"

 

_Well... that seems a pretty good deal... Alright. But don’t forget the food!_

 

Disgust aside, the crying had become quieter. Maybe it was the horrible promise, or the fact Dean was gently bouncing the boy in his arms, rubbing at his back and swaying. Castiel couldn't see how that was settling, but Gabriel's crying had now become a whine, and it was bliss.

 

"You got a bottle?" Dean asked, keeping his own voice soft, and Castiel wordlessly handed it over, watching in awe.

 

"Sit down, Cas. You look like you need a rest."

 

Castiel was happy to take the offer, collapsing heavily down onto the couch as Dean stayed standing, bottle held for the baby until, what seemed like an age later, Gabriel squirmed once more and pushed it away. Instead of screaming again, he stayed quiet.

 

"What did you do?" Castiel asked with awe, breaking the silence after a long while. If he didn't speak he knew he would sleep, and he couldn't, not with Dean there.

 

"Nothing. Not really. Me and this little guy just have a bond." Dean said with a grin down at the boy in his arms, who seemed to have settled now and as Dean slowly lowered himself onto the couch next to Castiel, the baby seemed to fall completely asleep.

 

Castiel shouldn't have let him say that. He shouldn't have let a near stranger say he had a bond with Gabriel. But Castiel found he didn't have the energy to make an argument  at the moment. Right now, he was just glad for some peace and quiet. Gabriel wasn't sick, he was just trouble. Although, looking at that peaceful, sleeping face made Castiel think that maybe, just maybe, Gabriel wouldn't be that much of a handful.

 

"Thank you." He murmured, eyes half-closing as he felt sleep catching up with him, cuddling Gabriel close.

 

"It's okay Cas. But let's get you into bed, alright? And Gabe too."

 

That made sense, even Castiel's sleep-deprived brain knew he couldn't sleep on the couch with the baby in his arm, not without running the risk of dropping him.

 

"'Night Cas." Dean said as Castiel got to his feet, Gabriel stirring and managing a half-hearted protest at being moved, falling back to sleep as Dean let himself out the door.

 

"Good night Dean. Thank you."

 

\---

 

**A Few Days Later:**

 

The first few days went like a blur. There were deliveries of flowers, tiny outfits for the baby, cards and telephone calls from people Castiel hadn’t seen for months, sometimes years. It was more than kind of them, to think of him, and in the free moments Castiel had between making bottles for his baby, changing him and cuddling him to sleep again, it was nice to bathe in the love and attention that the gifts radiated.

 

But after a few days the gifts and calls and cards dried up, and although his son was beautiful, wonderful and amazing, Castiel was beginning to struggle. He had very little time to himself, he worried about stepping into the shower in case the baby should need him. He was awake odd hours of the day and even odder hours of the night and he’d begun to snap at the door man or the grocery boy when they went out of the way to bring him his mail or bring up his shopping for him.

 

He needed proper human contact. He needed to go out. He needed someone to look after his baby, he needed a babysitter. The image of Dean Winchester popped into his head, and he discounted it. The man was a taxi-driver, not a professional babysitter, no matter what he said about getting along with Gabriel. He needed someone he knew, that he trusted or at least with a long list of reputable references.

 

His call to Meg was, perhaps, a little self-serving. He wanted to see her, and she had just got into town. She had to meet Gabriel. And then he could have a conversation, he could see someone face to face. And perhaps, perhaps, Meg would be happy to watch the baby for a few minutes, just while he went out into the fresh air.

 

Meg didn’t exactly seem sold on the idea of watching the baby, but she came over anyway, a bottle of champagne in hand when Castiel opened the door. She waved it temptingly in front of him before handing it over,  then pulling him into her arms.

 

She looked far less happy when a few minutes later she had been maneuvered onto the couch and Castiel had given the baby to her to hold. She looked almost as unimpressed with it as Gabriel seemed with her, squirming as much as a fourteen-day child could and bawling it’s eyes out.

 

_She’s scary she’s scary! Castiel! Castiel! I’ll be good just don’t leave me with her!_

 

“So, what? If I want to go out for a coffee, I can’t leave it here? What’s it going to do, turn on the stove?” She asked incredulously. She’d clearly never babysat any of her neighbor’s kids for money. Or maybe she had, which was the more worrying thought.

 

“No! You can’t go and leave the baby alone. If you go out, you have to take him with you. And you have to take his bag.”

 

“He has a bag already?” Meg said, with a little more interest, looking at the baby she was awkwardly holding. “That’s pretty metro, kid.”

 

“It’s not his, Meg, its a diaper bag. It has wipes, and his bottles and a few toys. You can’t go out without it.”

 

Meg’s face contorted. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so appalled by anything. “I guess you wouldn’t want to look after him while I go out for an hour or so?”

 

She shook her head, trying to pass Gabriel back, fairly gently.

 

Then her nose twitched, and her arms straightened out immediately, thrusting the baby back at Castiel.

 

“Oh my god, I think it just pooped. Oh that’s disgusting!”

 

\---

 

He had no choice, really. Dean was the only person that had showed a direct interest in looking after the baby. Maybe that should have been a warning or something, but it didn’t set off any alarm bells, and neither did Dean, so Castiel didn't bat an eyelash when Dean came round again. He pulled up outside the apartment building in cab, the radio blaring Led Zeppelin or something heavy and loud like that, and he'd climb the stairs two at a time singing the last few bars.

 

It was a totally unofficial set-up, they never planned it or discussed when Dean would be over next. But he appeared like some sort of angel when Gabriel was screaming or refusing to eat, or sometimes he was just there when Castiel had a book of accounts to go over and the baby needed attention.

 

It wasn't the same though. Not as Gabriel having a real father in his life. Dean was a babysitter, an acquaintance, someone who helped him out in his time of need, and no more than that. If Castiel had a partner by his side none of this would be happening. He wouldn't have to take on more work in an attempt to cover the loss of Crowley as a client, he wouldn't have to buy second-hand strollers or cots and he wouldn't have to rely on Dean turning up in order to get his work done. He'd have someone else to kick out of bed in the middle of the night when Gabriel needed feeding or changing. He would have stability.

 

He put his pen down on the coffee table, leaning back with a heavy sigh. Dean was lifting Gabriel high above his head and the baby was squealing with delight.

 

_Higher, Dean! Put your back into it! Up up up! I can reach the light shade!_

 

"I think I should try dating." Castiel said casually, and apparently this thought was completely alien and unexpected, judging by the reaction Dean had. He caught Gabriel awkwardly, hugging him close to his chest and looking at Castiel like he'd grown another head or suggested Dean recalculate his taxes. To Castiel, it seemed not only a rational decision but one he was bound to make sooner rather than later.

 

_Why did you stop? Dean? Dean! This isn’t any fun at all! This is a breach of contract! You said we’d have fun!_

 

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, putting the baby down in his bouncer.

 

"I'm going to try dating again. I need some adult company and Gabriel needs another parent."

 

Dean said nothing. Although it was clear he was trying to find something to protest about, his mouth opening slightly before his brain caught up and his mouth firmly closed again.

 

"The trouble is finding a babysitter for the evenings." Castiel continued, still musing and clearly not paying any attention to Dean at all, staring out the window at a bird flying by.

 

That was more than Dean could handle, if his reaction was anything to go by. He spluttered, the first noise that managed to escape him for over a minute, and shook his head.

 

"Cas! I'm hurt. Come on, it's one thing to introduce some random guy to Gabe but a weird new babysitter too? You know I'm good for the evenings."

 

Castiel frowned, turning to look at Dean now. "You aren't a babysitter, Dean. And I thought you did evenings and nights in the cab."

 

The answer he got to that was a shrug, "I can change my shift. Besides, the little guy knows me. And I've never been bad with him, have I? You trust me, don't you?"

 

Castiel didn't like direct questions. Not of that nature. Questions like "am I paying too much tax?" and then "can you arrange it so I pay less?" were pretty standard questions in his line of work, but he didn't like these sort of personal questions. It made him shift uncomfortably, considering his options. Dean was still a stranger to him, someone he barely knew but, oddly enough when Dean was with Gabriel, he didn't worry about how safe Gabriel was. But on the other hand, Dean had never been unsupervised with the baby, or alone in the apartment.

 

"You've fallen asleep hundreds of times, Cas. I've always been here when you woke up, and so has your wallet." Dean pointed out, reading the twisting emotions play over Castiel's features. It was true, Castiel had occasionally shut his eyes for longer than he should have done when Dean was there. It hadn’t happened more than a handful of times, nothing even close the hundred times that Dean claimed, but despite the exaggeration, Dean had proved himself trustworthy.

 

But that didn't mean Dean got a free pass. "We'll give you a trial run." Castiel repeated, reaching for a notepad and pen, pushing them towards Dean. "But first I want your telephone number, your address, and a reference."

 

\---

 

**A Week Later:**

 

It didn't take Castiel long to find a date. Apparently Castiel's friend Meg had been told about his sudden urge to try and find a man. Not one to resist a challenge, she'd happily tried her hand at matchmaking with a tall, dark stranger she knew Castiel wouldn't be able to resist, or so she said. She'd even gone as far as to book a table for seven-thirty, Castiel was being collected half an hour before.

 

Dean was over at half six forty-five, expecting to find chaos. He didn't. Castiel’s apartment wasn’t exactly a haven of tranquility though. Castiel was mostly dressed, his tie crookedly fastened around his neck and his shoes by the door. He was trying to feed Gabriel, but the baby seemed disastrously close to hiccuping everything back up. “Come here.” Dean said, easing Gabriel out of Castiel’s arms and grabbing the bottle, sitting the baby out of the way in his bouncer and letting Castiel straighten up his shirt.

 

“I’ll feed him once you’ve gone.” Dean gave him a quick once over. “ Are you really wearing that?”

 

The look Castiel gave Dean was withering. “I’m going to a restaurant, Dean. Not an all-night dance club. I think a suit and tie is appropriate.”

 

He’d gone back to trying to neaten himself up again and missed the roll of Dean’s eyes. He struggled for a moment, never getting the length quite right, or the knot was too tight. Dean watched for several seconds before he couldn’t just stand by anymore. Castiel was nervous, and not hiding it well. Dean left Gabriel happily making noises in his bouncer and instead moved to the boy’s father, taking the strip of fabric from him.

 

“So, this guy your friend has set you up with- has she told you anything about him?”

 

“No, no, Dean I can manage- fine. No, she hasn’t really told me much. His name is Michael and Meg said he is very nice. She said she thought he was the type I’d be suited to.”

 

“Whatever that means.”

 

“I think it means she’s not just asking anyone, Dean, but seriously considering what has the best potential for success.”

 

Dean glanced up , meeting Castiel’s intensely blue eyes for a long, tense moment, before he gave up. Hopefully the guy would be okay; not some sort of jerk like Castiel’s last boyfriend, but Dean didn’t really like the idea of these set-ups. There was too much that could go wrong. Honestly, it seemed to him that Castiel didn’t even know what he wanted, never mind Castiel’s friend knowing what sort of guy he’d be happy with. But by then he’d managed to make the tie look presentable, and Castiel seemed more certain.

 

“Well, you look great no matter what he’s like.” Dean said, and Castiel seemed about to thank him, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth before the doorbell rang.

 

“Dean!” Castiel squeaked, rushing back towards his bedroom. “That’s him, that’s Michael! Let him in, I’ve got to get my jacket!” Then he was gone, leaving Dean to go answer the door to a tall, slender man with dark hair and a serious expression.

 

“Are you Castiel?” He asked, looking more than a little perturbed.

 

“No. I’m the baby-sitter.” Dean replied, his tone sharper than he had meant it to be, but he couldn’t help himself.

 

“A male nanny? How modern.”

 

Dean wanted to say something sharp, something witty, and biting. But what came out was "Actually, I'm just a taxi driver." Judging by the look on Michael's face, that didn't have the effect Dean was hoping for.

 

"Michael!" Castiel interrupted them, before anything else could be said. But Dean found himself straightening up, puffing out his chest like a jealous pigeon when Castiel reached the door, his jacket on and a highly polished pair of shoes on his feet.

 

"I'm all ready if you are." He said, giving a small, encouraging smile and for the moment, Michael forgot all about the competition, offering out his arm.

 

With a hurried goodbye, Castiel pulled the door shut and was dragged away.

 

\---

 

"...And Castiel will have the salad." Michael added, snapping the menu closed and handing it smartly back to their waiter.

 

"Er..." Castiel managed, utterly surprised. He hadn't decided yet, but Michael seemed to have decided for him.

 

"With grilled chicken." Michael added before turning away from the staff and pouring Castiel another glass of expensive but bland mineral water. "It's important after having a child that you get back to your ideal weight as soon as possible Castiel. But you do need your protein, I should have considered that."

 

"I didn't put on much weight with Gabriel." Castiel replied, once he'd overcome the initial shock. What sort of man had Meg found for him? They had shared some... intimate conversations before, about what he liked in a man, about fantasies he had about silk scarves and spanking but he didn't know how to tell Crowley. Now, looking at Michael with his stiff posture and perfect suit and dominating ways, maybe she had taken it a little too much to heart.

 

He did not want his choices made for him. He never had and never would. Not that Michael seemed to care, he was already telling Castiel how important it was for him to stay a healthy weight as not to encourage his child to overeat. Castiel had never heard anything more ridiculous in all his life.

 

He stood, chair scraping against the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry Michael, but I don’t think this is going to work out. Thank you for your time this evening, but I think I will  call a cab and just go home.”

 

And without another word, he left. He didn’t care about the glances from the other diners, or the expression on Michael’s face. He wasn’t going to waste his time on someone that wasn’t going to be right for him, or his baby. Before Gabriel had been born, before Crowley, he would never have had the courage to calmly walk out on a man like Michael, and even now his heart was racing. He expected Michael to shout, to try and catch him, but he collected his coat and reached the outside unmolested. He might have been hyperventilating, but as soon as a cab pulled over for him, relief washed over him completely. He was only vaguely disappointed it wasn’t Dean driving it, but of course, he was at home with the baby, and Castiel would have been livid if he’d left Gabriel to play the white knight.

 

Dean was very surprised to see him home so early, but Gabriel cooed happily and struggled until he was picked up and cuddled, kisses pressed into his hair and cheeks.

 

“Not a great night out then I take it?” Dean asked, but Castiel refused to answer, he just shook his head. He was grateful, of course, and wanted Dean to know that, but he also wanted Dean to know it was time he left.

 

_No! Dean! Stay a little longer bro! Die Hard is on at 9:30!_

 

\---

 

One disaster was not enough to put Castiel off. He did have a quiet word with Meg the next day over the phone, when she called clearly hoping for gossip. She sounded more than a little annoyed that Castiel hadn’t liked her choice, but she simply sighed and offered to find him someone a little less controlling.

 

Apparently that was not hard to do. Before the week was out she had arranged another prospective suitor to pick him up in the evening and take him for a meal. She had offered to put them on a VIP list for a night club, but that had never been of interest to Castiel even when he was younger and before he had a child to think about. A  meal, in a nice restaurant where he could hear himself think and his date speak was all he wanted.

 

Castiel did not let his hopes get too high, considering the disastrous nature of his last date. No matter what, though, Dean muttered under his breath the whole time as Castiel got dressed. He was not going to tar all his dates with the same brush. Not everyone was like Michael, in fact not even Crowley had been as controlling. That filled him with hope and when, a little late but not terribly so,  a man in a carefully pressed suit arrived at the door.

 

He was older than Castiel had expected, but he slipped out the door before Dean could say anything and ignoring the feelings of doubt in his chest. He made small talk, told himself that first dates didn’t always go well. But there was no spark. The man was dull, and Castiel almost felt like he was meeting with a client, not a prospective boyfriend.

 

Maybe he was expecting too much. He wanted to just find a man he could feel happy with, content to spend hours in the same company, to feel happy. Dean shook his head when Castiel told him, wiping Gabriel’s face with a tissue. ”It’s not always that easy.” Dean had said, and now Castiel was sure he was right.

 

He wasn’t going to rush into it. Dean had offered to look after Gabriel whenever Castiel needed, and Castiel was grateful.  If it was going to take time, then he needed to know he had someone to rely on.

 

\---

 

**About a month later:**

 

He was just going to give up on dating. He clearly wasn’t cut out for it. Every man he met was wrong for him, or just plain wrong and none of them made him feel happy, never mind make him want to introduce them to his son. Maybe he could try again, in a year or so, maybe then he wouldn’t have such terrible luck.

 

He opened the front door, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his coat, tossing both items into a far corner of the hall. He could hear Dean, just round the corner, who soon appeared with a half asleep baby in his arms.

 

“Cas, are you okay? How’d it go?” Dean asked, although it wasn’t even nine. He must have known it was another disaster, but he was too good to say anything. But the look Castiel gave him must have explained it all, because he shifted the baby in his arms. “I was about to put Gabriel to bed. I’m sorry about tonight. Do you wanna hit the hay? A pizza just arrived so you can-”

 

Castiel shook his head, “It’s alright Dean. You tuck him in. I’m just going to go sit down.”

 

He eased passed the man, pressing a quick kiss to Gabriel’s cheek before flopping down onto the sofa. Behind him, Dean moved to lay Gabriel down in his bassinet, murmuring the end of whatever story he’d been telling. Castiel half listened, although he only heard one out of every few words, something about dragons and princesses or something, but the smell of the pizza was far more distracting.

 

The food at the restaurant had been good, but the portions had been small, and he was still hungry. Dean had offered him a slice, and judging from the size of the box, it wasn’t a small or even a medium pizza. One slice wouldn’t be terrible.

 

He was licking cheese off his chin when Dean returned, wiping it off quickly as the other man sat down.

 

“He’s asleep,” Dean said with a pleased, tired grin, reaching over Castiel to grab a slice of his own. “Do you want to talk about it? The date?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Gratefully, Dean didn’t push. Instead he nodded and took a bite of his own food, chewing and swallowing quickly. “I was going to leave and take my pizza with me. But if you want a few slices, and some company, I can stay? You’ve already paid me for the whole evening, after all. And it’d be good to hang out for a while.”

 

It was the best invitation Castiel had had a week, maybe even all month, and he wasn’t about to deny that it sounded wonderful after the disastrous evening so far. “If you’re happy to share.”

 

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise Cas.” Dean grinned, and helped himself to another slice. “There’s a bottle of coke in the kitchen. And The Fugitive is on in thirty.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it all the way through.”

 

“What? No, Cas, you’re missing out! The end bit in the hotel is great, it’s just really under rated-”

 

Castiel lent back, slowly finishing his mouthful as Dean talked. An evening in was exactly what he needed, and so much nicer than just crawling into bed and berating himself for all his failures. He might not have a husband or even a boyfriend, but he had Dean and pizza and this was what he needed.

 

They didn’t manage to finish the pizza, but that didn’t matter in the end. Dean was strangely excited about watching the film with Castiel, even if they managed to talk through most of it, Dean would always say when there was a scene he thought was especially note worthy. By the end though, Castiel knew he was dropping off to sleep, pressed against Dean’s side and his eyes falling closed. He felt Dean take the glass of soda out his hands, but then he was asleep.

 

He woke up hours later, when sunlight was beginning to bleed through the blinds, Dean carefully trying to shift off the couch without disturbing him, only to stand on one of Gabriel’s toys- a sheep that bleated loudly when it’s sides were squeezed. He blearily realized that Gabriel was crying in the other room, but that didn’t make him jump up suddenly awake like it normally did.

 

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s all good,” Dean said, pushing the sheep aside with a foot, and Castiel drifted off again. He woke up in the morning with a stiff neck and with a blanket over his lap. Dean had gone, but he’d written a note on the top of the pizza box.

 

_I had a great time. We should have a movie night more often. I’ll catch you later._

 

It almost seemed a shame to have to throw it away.

  
  


\---

 

**A Week After:**

 

Meg turned up an hour after Dean had arrived, so by the time she stepped into the apartment, he had Gabriel tucked up on one arm, reading him a book about farm animals, complete with sheep baying, horse neighing, chicken clucking and the rest.

 

As Castiel grabbed his coat from the peg, he met her gaze, her raised eyebrow. It might have been vaguely embarrassing for her to witness, but Gabriel was squealing with delight at each sound.

 

“It’s educational.” Castiel explained, before calling his goodbyes, Dean waving without turning away from the baby and the book, so not to interrupt the story. If you could call a book about farmyard animals saying hello a plot.

 

They were just stepping out of the elevator, heading to the coffee shop a block away when Meg spoke, apparently unable to hold back any longer.

 

“So, that’s the reason you’re not looking for a man anymore? You’ve got one on tap at home?” The suggestive smirk on her face made Castiel miss a step, almost tumbling before she grabbed his elbow.

 

“What? Dean?”

 

Castiel looked around, as if to try and see if there was anyone in the lobby to over-hear, if Dean was there. But no one was there to hear them.

 

“Oh come on Clarence!” She said, rolling her eyes and yanking the door open for them both. “If I had a hottie at home, I wouldn’t seriously look for it anywhere else. And he is a hottie. One sexy nanny if you ask me.”

 

He dodged the attempt to nudge him in the ribs, trying to stop himself from flushing. “Look, Dean might be attractive, I hadn’t noticed. But he’s not a babysitter. He’s a cab driver.”

 

Meg snorted at that. “If you really don’t see it, then you need your eyes checked.”

 

“Can we change the subject?” He snapped.

 

“Right, have it your way. I’m just pointing it out. You said he was a taxi driver? I’ve got to start getting taxi’s more often...”

 

“Meg!”

 

“Alright, alright. Subject officially dropped...”

  
  


\---

**Three Months Later:**

 

Gabriel looked adorable, in his cream colored felt shirt that made his cheeks look all the more rosy, with  little lambs embroidered on the front that looked cuter than anything else Castiel's baby had in his limited wardrobe. The only trouble was that Gabriel did not seem to agree, kicking and screaming and waving his fists as Castiel tried to get the matching trousers up the chubby baby's thighs. He really wasn't having any luck.

 

_No! No! No! I don’t want the stupid lambs! Dinosaurs! Dinosaurs! Lambs are for stupid babies!_

 

"Are you sure about this?" Dean asked from where he stood hovering over Castiel's shoulder. He was holding Gabriel's socks and shoes, waiting to pass them over. Castiel didn't know if Dean meant the choice of outfit or the reason Castiel was fighting to get Gabriel into it in the first place. Today was the day Castiel had arranged to visit Crowley, to introduce him to his son.

 

"I've made up my mind, Dean." Castiel replied, tone clipped. That worked for both possible options, and it was true. But Castiel was almost certain Dean meant the visit itself. Crowley didn't care about Castiel, hadn't cared that he was pregnant, why would he care now that Gabriel had been born?

 

That had been playing in Castiel's mind. But how could anyone turn their nose up at Gabriel? He made the sky bluer when he laughed, when he reached out for Castiel just to be close to him, Castiel felt his heart swell with joy. Gabriel was a beautiful, precious child. Why would Crowley want to be anything but an active part of his son's life? Castiel just didn't know.

 

But he wanted Gabriel on his best behavior. He'd kept him up all day the day before, so he slept through the night. He'd fed him and washed him and used the expensive baby shampoo someone had given him as a present. He'd tried to impart on Gabriel just how important it was to make a good impression, to prove to his father just how fantastic a child Gabriel could be. It was for the sake of Gabriel's future, for his happiness in years to come, Castiel had told him, but considering Gabriel's temper so far that day, none of it had sunk in.

 

Dean probably wasn't helping, filling the apartment with all that negative energy. Gabriel liked Dean, that was clear, and it was already obvious he was taking cues from the man. Crowley would not like that. Crowley wouldn't like it at all and if Castiel was truthful, sometimes he thought he kept Dean nearby because he knew how unhappy Crowley would be of he thought a common taxi-driver had so much influence over his baby.

 

"Gabriel, stay still!" He said eventually, willing the boy to stay still. Maybe it was the irritated sound of Castiel's voice, but Gabriel did seem to stop struggling as much as he had been, allowing Castiel to wrestle him into the trousers. He gave up on the shoes- he'd read somewhere that they weren't good for such young babies anyway, and just put the socks over his son's feet to keep them warm.

 

Then he picked him up, cuddling him close and taking a few deep breaths. As resolved as he was to see this through, it didn't mean Castiel didn't feel slightly nauseous at the idea of seeing Crowley again, at stepping into that office. But this wasn't about him, it was about Gabriel.

 

"Are we ready?" Dean asked, after Castiel had been rocking and cooing at his son for several minutes.

 

Castiel turned, offering Dean a smile and a nod. "As I'll ever be."

 

"Alright then." Dean said, returning the smile and grabbing the bag full of all Gabriel's bottles and diapers and toys, as well as the buggy folded at the door. "Handsome Princes, your yellow city carriage awaits!"

 

That at least lightened the mood a little, Castiel letting himself laugh, even if it was a little forced, before heading down to the front of the building. Dean's car was pulled up there, with Gabriel's safety seat already strapped in.

 

Castiel sat in the back with his baby, letting Dean switch on the radio and tap out the beat of the songs on the steering wheel as Gabriel squealed along. The lyrics were drowned out, but that didn't matter. It was a distraction, and Castiel sorely needed one of those as Dean drove them deeper into the city. The brownstone apartments melted away into office blocks, into skyscrapers, expensive coffee shops, and bistros. It’s a little daunting being back here. This is after all the offices he used to work in, the businesses he used to visit to check their figures and now he felt completely at a loss. He recognized all of it, but somehow it wasn’t the same. He supposed it was because now he was removed from it, he’d grown up a little and had his heart broken.

 

They were drawing up to Crowley’ building in hardly any time. Well, comparatively. Castiel felt his stomach churn with nerves again, and as Dean slowed to a stop in front of the steps. He had to take a deep breath, steadying himself before he got out of the car, easing Gabriel out too. The last time he had been here had been far from pleasant, and he was having to force himself to forget the image of Crowley and his secretary entangled on the man’s mahogany desk. Now was not the time to dwell on that, and he knew it, especially as he wanted to keep a cool head when he introduced his son. But try as he might, the churning did not stop.

 

“I’ll wait out here for you, okay?” Dean said, as he helped Castiel carry the folded pram up the stone steps, setting it up not far from the main doors.

 

Castiel nodded, but wasn’t really paying much attention. Would Crowley even see them? Would he have Castiel turned away? He hoped not. But if Crowley tried to, then Castiel could make a scene. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to cause any embarrassment or, worse still, be thrown out by security. Crowley knew they were coming, but he could still refuse to see them. He could say he had an important meeting, a scheduling conflict.

 

As he pushed Gabriel’s pram in, his knuckles white on the handles. He didn’t bother to go to the front desk, he had never done so before. He just went straight to the elevators, waited until one came along, and then got in. The suited business -men and -women looked at him out of the corner of their eyes, not saying anything. It was the most uncomfortable elevator ride of his life, but everyone else had filtered out before they got anywhere near the floor that housed Crowley’s office.

 

\---

 

This time there was no wait. There was a professionally looking young lady sat outside Crowley’s office, filtering his calls and she smiled as Castiel approached. “Mr Novak? Oh and this must be Crowley’s little boy! He’s very excited to meet you.”

 

It was not the reception Castiel had expected, but it was a good one, better than he’d hoped and he managed not to choke on the smile he returned.

 

“Don’t worry about sitting down, go right in!” She said brightly, moving to open the door so Castiel could steer the pram through.

 

Crowley was behind his desk, head bent to his work. It was a relief, considering the last time he'd come here, the last time he'd been in Crowley's office.

 

"I like the new secretary much more than your previous one" Castiel said dryly, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Crowley was standing now, coming to meet them but at that he floundered. Castiel realized that before, all those months ago, he would never have said such a thing, never out loud.

 

Crowley recovered quickly, instead looking down at the child who was looking up at him in mild confusion. "Is this my son?" Crowley asked, and it was all Castiel could do to nod.

 

Crowley was already crouching down, looking at the baby with interest when Castiel found his tongue.

 

"His name is Gabriel."

 

"Gabriel? Very good, I like it." Crowley said, as Gabriel cooed at him, reaching out to grab at Crowley's tie as the man lent forward. But the man stood again before Gabriel managed to tug on it and choke him, much to Castiel’s relief.

 

_Who’s this guy? Where’s Dean? I want Dean! Dean’s fun. Much funner than this loser..._

 

Crowley brought a chair, possibly one of the kindest gestures he had ever made, and set it down by the pram for Castiel, before moving over his own chair, putting it down next to the pram. He settled, watching Castiel gently stroke Gabriel’s hair back into place.

 

“I know this has been very difficult for you Castiel.  I apologize for making you go through all this without my help.”

 

Castiel paused, the hairs on the back of his neck standing slightly. But Crowley was being kind. This was what he’d hoped for, wanted, but never dreamt he’d get. Crowley was sorry, Crowley knew he’d done wrong. Crowley wanted to be part of his son’s life. “Well, you can make amends for that.” Castiel told him gently, before leaning down and unfastening the harness, getting Gabriel out of his seat and sitting him on his lap.

 

“That is what I wanted to do.” Crowley replied, looking at the baby so close to him with some trepidation. Castiel couldn’t fault him. Before Gabriel had hurtled into Castiel’s life, he’d rarely held a child either. He’d been scared of dropping them, holding them wrong. Crowley almost certainly had the same worries.

 

But Crowley continued, still watching the child on Castiel’s knee. “Yes. I thought I’d take over. I have more resources, I can provide it with everything it needs. I can get him into the best schools. He’ll want for nothing. There would be no need for you to trouble yourself further.”

 

Castiel blinked, sure he had misheard. “Trouble myself?” He repeated, heart sinking in his chest.

 

“You’ll be fully compensated, of course.”

 

There was no way he had misheard, or misinterpreted that. He could find words, his throat constricted and his heart hammering. Crowley moved, back to his desk and opened a drawer. There was something in his hands, a pen and, and a check book.

 

“Would ten thousand dollars cover it?” He asked, sitting back down and that was when Gabriel screamed. Castiel had no idea he’d been holding him so tight, but clearly, subconsciously he’d been holding onto his baby as tight as he could.

 

“Crowley, I am not selling you my child!”

 

\---

 

Dean hadn’t bothered to get back in the taxi yet. As soon as he did, someone would get in and demand to be taken somewhere. It was just how it worked. He wanted to stretch his legs for a while, turn the motor off and wait in the sunshine. He had no idea how long Castiel was going to take in there, but he had promised to wait and wait he would.

 

If he got bored, he could simply lean in and turn the radio on, but he never got the chance to get bored. It hadn’t been long, not even half an hour and there was Castiel. This time he wasn’t heading up the steps with his head held high, nervous but not prepared to show it. Now he was dragging the folded buggy down, not caring if it knocked against someone in his hurry. The baby, held tightly in Castiel’s other arm, was squealing loudly, laughing as if he’d just seen the best thing in the world.

 

_And then he threw the ugly vase at the stupid man, Dean! You shoulda seen it!_

 

Dean wasn’t sure Castiel was paying attention to anything around him, but he went up the first set of steps to meet him, carefully taking the buggy out of Castiel’s hand. Castiel’s jaw was set, his blue eyes like ice, and Dean was half frightened that police cars would draw up any minute and arrest Cas for murder.

 

“That man-” Castiel began, but stopped himself from saying any more, biting his lip. Dean nodded, following Castiel to the taxi. Dean let Castiel fasten the baby in the car, busying himself with putting the buggy away in the trunk. But he could hear Cas well enough, even if he pretended he couldn’t. Castiel was sorry, so sorry he had taken Gabriel to that horrible man, that Gabriel didn’t have to see him, that they were both better off without him in their lives.

 

Dean didn’t try to interrupt, not when Castiel needed this moment, needed to talk to his child and clearly not be overheard. Not that Gabriel seemed to care, laughing again and reaching out to press his little hands against Castiel’s face. That seemed to help Castiel, making him smile and press a kiss to his son’s small hands, before climbing into the front seat.

 

“Home?” Dean offered as he joined Castiel, turning the engine on. Castiel gave a nod, and then turned his gaze out to the window, watching the world go by as Dean drove.

 

\---

 

Gabriel was happily bashing his building blocks together in his playpen when Dean brought Castiel in a hot cup of coffee. He still seemed to seethe under the quiet, calm exterior and that worried Dean. He wasn’t an expert on acting on his feelings or at least acknowledging them, but this didn’t seem healthy.

 

Dean sat down besides Castiel with his own cup of coffee, and gently touched Castiel on the shoulder. “Cas? Cas? You can talk to me, you know. I already think the guy’s a-” He paused, glancing over at the playpen, then half-whispering the next word, “-a dick. If you need to vent-”

 

“I just can’t believe he’d do that. He tried to buy Gabriel from me! He said I couldn’t provide what he needed, and that he’d take over from there! Can you believe it Dean? Can you believe that any normal human being would try and do such a thing? That man! I should have known, I should have realized he wouldn’t change...”

 

Dean wasn’t expecting this sudden outpouring, not from Castiel. Castiel wasn’t the sort who ranted or raved. He kept it all close to his chest, but that just made it all the more obvious how upset he was. Dean scooted closer, although for a moment he wasn’t sure if he should, before pulling Castiel into a hug. It seemed to help.

 

“He’s my baby, Dean! He’s everything and I know he’s a pest and I know that Crowley could buy him nice things but that isn’t love, is it?” Castiel’s words were muffled by Dean’ shoulder, his fingers tightening in the fabric of Dean’s shirt.

 

“Nah, Cas. That’s not love.” Dean murmured, rubbing at Castiel’s back as Gabriel cooed from his playpen, still giggling to himself as plastic banged together. “Hear that? That’s your baby Cas, and he’s happy, and he has everything he needs. Because of you.”

 

Castiel sniffed, before he pulled away. His eyes were red, but other than that there was no sign he’s been crying apart from the wet stain on Dean’s shirt. But Dean couldn’t blame him. Someone had tried to take away his baby. The idea made something in Dean hurt too, made something in him twist.

 

He reached up, thumb brushing the last remains of a tear from under Castiel’s eye, offering him a smile. “We’d never let anyone take him from you Cas.”

 

Castiel nodded, looking over Dean’s shoulder, towards Gabriel. The baby seemed completely content, safe.  Castiel looked back, into Dean’s eyes and quickly, breathlessly, pressed his mouth against Dean’s.

 

Dean kissed back, hard and impassioned. Castiel hadn’t ever been kissed like that, not with fire behind it. It took Castiel’s breath away, his eyes slipping closed. It was good to be kissed, and to be kissed well. When they pulled apart, Dean was grinning, although it was more of a smirk than anything.

 

“In front of Gabriel?”

 

“He was hardly paying attention.” Castiel replied, sliding off the sofa.

 

But as he moved into the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water, he saw the little boy in the playpen watching him, and he could have sworn Gabriel winked at him.

 

That was all he needed, his baby encouraging him to get involved with Dean. He had made a mistake. Dean was attractive, Dean was kind. Castiel was only human, recovered now from the birth of his son and clearly there were hormones at play. He sucked in a breath, opening the fridge door and trying to imagine himself with Dean.

 

It wasn’t difficult. But one upon a time he’d imagined himself with Crowley. He couldn’t trust himself, or his own judgement.

 

Clearly he’d stood there for too long, as Dean appeared in the doorway. “We could make it work, Cas. We’d be good together.”

 

Castiel laughed. The way Dean had mirrored his thoughts so accurately was strange, but proof of nothing. He didn’t believe people could share wavelengths. He shook his head, not at Dean but at himself, and opened the bottle, taking a swallow as he tried to form his thoughts into words.

 

“What if... what if we aren’t? Gabriel loves you, I need you. You’re a friend... more than a friend Dean.”

 

And when it went wrong, Dean would be gone. They couldn’t continue this, if it did. Dean wouldn’t want to babysit Gabriel when Castiel had to work, he wouldn’t want to eat with Castiel after a long day. He wouldn’t stay to just watch films and talk. It would ruin everything Castiel had come to love.

 

Dean moved closer, gently taking the water bottle out of Castiel’s hands, kissing him gently on the cheek. There was promise in that kiss, something that stirred Castiel but he could avoid urges. He could rise above them.

 

“We could make it work.” Dean repeated, with such conviction in his voice that Castiel could almost believe it. “We could take it slow. Any time you want to stop, we stop. But Cas-” Dean stopped, floundering like he wasn’t sure what to say next. But he didn’t need prompting, he didn’t even stop long enough for Castiel to really worry. “All those guys you dated. I was so jealous and I thought you might, notice that...” He shrugged, his hands moving to Castiel’s arms, stroking gently. “I guess I should have told you then, huh? That I liked you?”

 

Castiel didn’t know what to do with that information, feeling a little lost in it. Dean had liked him for that long? Liked him and kept it private, liked him and supported him anyway.

 

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, kissing him again.

  
  


\---

 

He woke up sore. Sore in a way that he was completely unfamiliar with. He recognized it vaguely- the stickiness between his thighs, the slight ache in his legs. He’d had sex. But this seemed more, more than the ache he was used to. Then he remembered. Then he remembered how good it had felt, how Dean had kissed him and called him beautiful, not a slut or a whore, how he’d stroked Castiel’s sides and held his hips and taken him slowly. It had been more than good. It had been the best Castiel had ever had.

 

He rolled, turned onto his side and tried to ignore the light filtering in through the blinds, tried to ignore the muffled wails of his son. But the bed was empty of anyone but him.

 

Dean was already gone.

 

Castiel groaned, bringing his hand up to his head. They said they’d go slow, but they’d ended up in bed anyway, kissing, touching and hungry. Castiel had forgotten all about his concerns. But it wasn’t going to work.

 

He didn’t want to think it, but Dean might have just been waiting for his chance to bed Castiel and then leave. Maybe it had been all about the build up. Or maybe, maybe last night in the heat of it all, he realized he wanted something else. Someone other than a single parent with an annoying child and too much baggage.

 

Castiel didn’t want to get out of bed. His legs hurt, they felt like lead but Gabriel was wailing and if he didn’t get up, the neighbors would start banging on the ceiling. He was surprised that they hadn’t last night, with the amount of noise he and Dean had made.

 

He didn’t bother finding any clothes. He was going to get up, see to Gabriel, and then go back to bed. Or get straight into the shower. He couldn’t just hide himself in bed. He was going to have to start looking for a new babysitter.

 

He got to Gabriel’s room, stumbling a little in the darkness, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The door was open, and Gabriel was no longer crying. That was because Dean was there, naked but with a cloth over his shoulder, cradling Gabriel close as he fed him from a bottle.

 

Dean seemed to realize he had an audience, turning slightly and giving Castiel a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You looked so gorgeous and you needed some rest so I thought I’d see what the little guy wanted.”

 

Castiel didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that Dean looked so handsome, strong and wonderful with the baby in his arms, that smile on his face that made all of Castiel’s fears melt away. He should have listened, at the very start, when Dean had said he and Gabriel had a bond. They did. Gabriel loved Dean like he loved Castiel, he should have realized that.

 

He crossed the room, laying his head against Dean’s shoulder, breathing him in. “I know we said we should go slowly,” Castiel said, never more sure of himself than now, “But why don’t you move in?”

 

The smile that spread across Dean’s face was answer enough.

 

_Jeez, how long did it take you two? Just listen to me next time._

 


End file.
